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As the rider wheeled away I blurted out with anxious loudness in the general hubbub, "Isn't his brother with him?"

"Miz Wall!" cried the husband--"She's busy talkin'.--Miz Wall!--she don't hyuh me. I hate to interrupt heh.--Oh, Miz Wall! hyuh's Majo' Harper's clerk, right now!"

Rills of perspiration tickled my back like flies. "Can't one man do the work?"

All I got by looking then was a mellow laugh from behind her relowered veil; but we were going at a swift trot, nearing a roadside fire of fence-rails left by some belated foraging team, and as she came into the glare of it I turned my eyes a second time. She was revealed in a garb of brown enriched by the red beams of the fire, and was on the gray mare I had seen that morning under Lieutenant Edgard Ferry-Durand.

He spurted a pint to reply, "Fishe's batt'ry."

"His name is Oliver."

I knew it at a glance. "It's Oliver's," I said.

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